


Rose of Colorado

by NebraskaWildfire



Series: Rose of Cimarron [3]
Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22121446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebraskaWildfire/pseuds/NebraskaWildfire
Summary: Old friends meet in Cimarron, Colorado.
Series: Rose of Cimarron [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550212
Kudos: 4





	Rose of Colorado

“Well, Rosie,” her pa paused as they crested the last rise before they rode into the valley where Cimarron, Colorado sat. “There are trees.”

Rose looked around the rugged mountain town, nestled in the high valley between the two towering mountains. There were trees everywhere. Pines and aspens crowded the town. There were few spots where there were not trees.

“I was good selling trees in Kansas.” Rose continued to peruse the town as her father started down the incline. 

Their family had once more pulled up stakes, this time moving to the lush green valley high in the Colorado mountain ranges. Her mother had died, she thought of sadness, and Thom was away at college. Her father started arguing with his brother over control of the store in Kansas, so he thought it was time to try their luck in a new place. 

“Here we can sell axes and mining equipment,” her pa replied, as they continued into the main street of the town. It was obvious there were plenty of mines surrounding the area. They saw more miners walking down that street than they ever saw before in their lives. Rose laughed quietly to herself. There were not many mines in Kansas.

As they continued Rose noticed others in the street. She saw a few gunslingers in her life, wandering through the towns where they lived, since they passed the Mississippi, but these looked more serious and dangerous, in a way she could not identify, but could recognize. For the first time in her life, Rose felt like she was truly in the West. She wasn’t certain if that was good or bad.

Pa pulled the wagon up in front of the store that said Smithers Mercantile and Mining Supplies. It looked like Mr. Smithers spent most of his time doing something besides tending to his business, even before he died in the dispute over a poker game. Even the steps into the store were in need of repair.

Rose sighed, and handily stepped down the wheel to the ground, fetching a key out of her pocket. She had never been afraid of hard work and decided now was not the time to change that. She turned back towards her father.

“Pa, why don’t you head on around back and see if the barn is in any shape to shelter Blackie and Midnight there.” She turned back to take in the grimy windows and paint free doors. She squared her shoulders and gingerly for once in her life made her way up the rickety stairs.

It was several years later that she saw them ride into town.

She was behind the glistening wood counter of her store, selling flour, dynamite, and ammunition to yet another hopeful miner. She hired a German immigrant who was more skilled with a wood plane and hammer than a pick axe to build the beautiful counter and shelving, in exchange for a ticket back to Denver, where his skills might be better put to use. She would often hire other out of work miners to keep the paint on the front of her store. With the weather this high in the mountains, that seemed to be a continual chore.

It was never hard to find out of work miners in Cimarron, as some men had more talent at it than others, but lately it started to be very easy. The claims that produced the quick results were played out, so more men were looking for alternative work, just to feed themselves. 

The big mining companies were coming in now, to replace the smaller claims, as they had the resources to dig deeper. Those miners who had the stakes the big companies wanted, were the lucky ones. They sold out and made a killing. Rose often saw them in town afterwards, blowing their money on poker, liquor, or women. Often she would see them again later, when they again needed money and a job.

As a result she started carrying less mining equipment and more of other items now in demand by a diverse clientele.

There had always been the gunslingers, professional gamblers, and other drifters that made their way into and out of Cimarron. The money generated by the mines always attracted anyone interested in acquiring that money for themselves. This resulted in an increasing number of saloons, dance halls, gambling parlors, and establishments that provide female company for a price. The growing number of these businesses increased the amount of men coming to Cimarron for a good time. Now they not only saw the lone gunman, but actual outlaw gangs. Some appreciated the anonymity provided by the larger number of establishments. Some just wanted a variety in choices.

All these changes, rather than decreasing Rose’s business, just seemed to increase it. Not only did the workers of all these businesses need things like clothing, soap, and food, but even the drifters, gamblers, and outlaws usually needed to resupply. They tended to buy more ammunition than soap, but Rose was more than willing to stock whatever would sell.

She glanced up, through her sparkling clean windows, as she heard a commotion in the street. There were always folks coming and going and now more often outlaw gangs whooping it up as they rode in and out of town. 

This group was different. You could see the confidence radiating off of them as they made their way down the street. They were not bullies as some were, pushing folks out of the way. Their smiles and relaxed seats in the saddle, as well as their well kept six guns, made folks just naturally move to the side.

They were almost past and she had actually looked down to close her cash register, when her gaze was drawn back up. It suddenly occurred to her that she recognized the set of those shoulders, the flowing dark hair and the golden curls.

She nodded absentmindedly as the miner drifted out. What were they doing here? Then she smiled sadly and shook her head. It was all too obvious what they were doing here. Hurrahing, like any outlaw gang.

It was a day later when Hannibal Heyes walked through her doors. It was a quiet part of the afternoon, the store empty, for once. Rose had been taking inventory, when she heard the bell over the door. She turned and met his eyes. They were the same as she remembered from Kansas, but with a hard sheen to them, like burnished steel. Life had not always been good to Heyes and his cousin, but it looked like they were surviving the fire, for now.

“Rose.” He smiled and those dimples came out and she had to smile back.

“What can I do for you, Han?” Her eyes reflected a harshness of their own. “Or is it Hannibal Heyes now?”

His smile faltered for a moment and then returned harder than before. “Always was Hannibal Heyes.” He paused. “Would appreciate it if you didn’t bandy that name around too much.” He looked around the empty store and then back to her.

“Yeah, I heard you had a thousand dollar bounty on you and on Jed.” She laughed harshly. “Or does he just answer to Kid now?”

“It’s just for robbing banks and trains, Rose. We ain’t shot or killed anyone.” His eyes now asked for something more.

“Well, ain’t that grand o’ you.” She looked at him deeply now, taking his measure, seeing how much he had really changed. “I’ve heard different about the Kid.”

“Can’t always believe what you hear, Rose.” He stopped and looked around again. “You alone here?”

She nodded, slowly pulled out a shotgun and set it on the counter.

Heyes almost cringed. “Heck, Rosie, I ain’t about to hurt you or rob you.” He motioned towards the gun. “Put it away before one of us gets hurt or something.”

She left it on the counter and folded her arms across her wide chest. She was still a solid woman, probably still outweighing Heyes.

“Though from what I heard in town, you might have as much money as a bank.” His smile came out again. “When I asked around about where to get supplies, everyone said I had to go to Rosie’s.” He met her eyes. “Rose of Cimarron the sign says above the door.” He paused. “Your family around to help you?”

She took a deep breath. “Ma passed before we came here. It’s why Pa wanted to move again, I think. Him,” she sighed. “He’s usually down to the Double Nickel. I tell Josiah to let him have a beer or two, but he’s just not been the same since Ma left us.” She stopped and put the shotgun away.

“And Thom?” Heyes asked quietly.

She smiled freely for the first time. “Thom did get that degree from Kansas State. He’s up at that medical school in Omaha. He’s got himself a girlfriend and is doing well.”

Heyes’ dimples came out. “That’s wonderful, Rose.” He glanced around the store. “Looks like you’re doing good for yourself here too.” He met her eyes again. “I was told, if you had money, Rose would get it for you.”

“Pa always told me, find out what the people want to buy, and sell it.”

“Just need a couple boxes of ammunition right now,” he asked pleasantly.

“Thought you all didn’t shoot anyone,” Rose scoffed.

Heyes just nodded. “Kid’s gotta keep in practice, though, so we don’t have to, now doesn’t he?”

“Guess so.” Rose turned to grab the ammunition off the shelf behind her and rang it up for Heyes.

“Come to dinner with us, Rose,” Heyes asked. “The Kid would love to see you.”

Rose hesitated for a minute, looking like she was going to decline, but then she nodded. “Sure.”

Rose of Cimarron did not suffer fools, hence the handy shotgun under her counter. She knew in a rough and tumble town like Cimarron, you had to be respected more than liked. Whereas in prior towns, folks made fun of her for her stocky build and tall height, here it worked to her benefit. After the first or second time she picked up a miner who got too disrespectful, or tossed a gambler in the street, who tried to make a joke they thought Rose would not understand, folks learned she was not one of the shop owners who could be pushed around. Those types did not last long in Cimarron and Rose had been running the store here for several years.

The level of respect still skyrocketed when word got around town that she was seen eating dinner or going out for a ride with a couple of those young gunmen who had come into town. While the names of Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry were even then known in the West, not everyone connected them with the particular gang currently in town, and everyone was fine with that. However enough did.

It was a couple days later that one of the girls from Blanche’s place graced her mercantile in search of some of the sweet smelling soaps Rose kept in stock for such customers.

As she put her purchases on the counter, she gave Rose a sly glance. “I’ve heard you know those two cute young men, Curry and Heyes.”

Rose rang up her purchase and started to wrap it in brown paper. She nodded.

Surprisingly the woman blushed a bit. “Well, they’ve been visiting us at Blanche’s and well, ain’t one of them sweet on you? I heard that going around town...”

Rose handed the package to her. “Ain’t like that. Han and Jed and I grew up together.”

“Han and Jed?” The woman scoffed. “Rosie, them men is wanted outlaws. Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry.”

Rose gave the woman a glare. “I ain’t the stupid one, who’s blathering their names all over town.” She put her hands on her hips. “Maybe I should suggest they frequent a different establishment o’ your kind.”

“Oh, no, Rose, don’t do that. Blanche would kick me out, if she lost all their business!”

“Then watch your mouth and be respectful.” 

“I will, Rosie. I will.”

“Heard you were trying to save our reputations, Rose,” the Kid smiled at her while they were out riding. The trees were thick and fragrant.

Rose almost blushed.

“Heard that you’re marrying one or both of us,” Heyes smiled. “Depending on the story.”

“Might take both of us, Heyes, to be man enough for Rosie.” The Kid smiled, but softly.

“Didn’t want them silly women causing problems for you all,” Rosie said quietly.

“We don’t want that either, Rose.”

The boys rode out a week later, but not before they stopped by the mercantile, each giving Rose a big hug and sweet kiss on the cheek.

“I wish you wouldn’t go.” Rose had a determined look on her face. “Maybe you could stay and work here.”

“We weren’t very good as clerks.” The Kid shook his head, even as he gave her another hug.

“You were the best I’ve ever had.”

Heyes looked at her skeptically.

“Well, you’re the best friends I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad you think so highly of us, Rose, but we gotta be going.”

“You’re good enough to beat a lot of the professional gamblers that come through here. Maybe you can stay and just play poker.” She looked hopeful.

“We’d love to stay, Rosie, but now that we have a wanted poster, there’s liable to be lawmen eventually come through town looking for us.” Heyes gave her a dimpled smile, but still turned to mount his horse. “Besides, the boys in the gang depend on us.”

“I wish it hadn’t come to this.” Rose wiped her eyes, but didn’t look up enough for them to actually see her tears.

“Yeah, sometimes we do too, but there weren’t much other choice for us.” The Kid smiled down at her. “We’ll try to make it back as soon as we can.”

“Be safe.” She backed off as the rest of the gang rode up. 

“We’ll do our best, Rose.” Heyes grinned again. “Long as our luck stays with us.”

The boys waved their hats as they galloped down the street and out of town.

After the third time the Devil’s Hole gang hurrahed in Cimarron during the next year or two, the rumors about one of them being sweet on Rose started to be taken seriously. The girls at the fancy houses could not for the life of them figure out what Rose had that they did not. The other shop owners jealously stated that it was a cheap source of ammunition. Rose just smiled at them all.

It was about then that the federal marshal from Denver paid a visit to Rose, asking her all sorts of worrisome questions.

“Miss Cimarron?” He was a tall thin man, with a determined look on his face, as he walked into her store.

“Mister?” She had seen the shiny star on his coat lapel, but wasn’t certain she was ready to acknowledge that fact.

“Marshal, ma’am.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Marshal Lester. From Colorado.”

“Sir.” She nodded, but wasn’t certain she liked being called ma’am now rather than miss. He wasn’t the first who called her that. She knew as she wasn’t a small woman, most men estimated her age higher than they would a more petite lady.

“I’m here looking for those boys from Devil’s Hole, Heyes and Curry.” He wasn’t going to waste either of their time dancing around the reason that had brought him there.

“Didn’t know they were wanted in Colorado.” She stalled a bit.

“They are suspected of robbing a train outside of Loveland.” He pushed back his long duster and hooked his thumbs in his well oiled gun belt. “Can always ship them off to Wyoming for the two thousand, if a judge here don’t want them.”

“Guess so.” She braced her arms on the dark wood of her store counter, ready to do battle. Her face showed none of this struggle. “What can I do for you? Need some ammunition or supplies?”

“I’ve heard tell you know the boys.” He waited.

She finally nodded. “We grew up together in Kansas.”

“Also heard that you’ve been spending some time with them here.”

“I’ll sell to anyone with hard cash.” She locked gazes with him. “It’s what any store owner would do.”

“Doubt if most of the mercantile owners here go to dinner with Heyes and Curry over to the Dancing Bell. Or go riding with them up in the hills.”

She paused, thinking, but he waited her out.

“You can’t fault a woman for trying to redeem old friends.”

“No, I guess not.” 

“I just do what my father taught me to do. Sell what people want to buy.”

He thought for a while. “But if an old friend might know when they are going to pull their next job, or the way into Devil’s Hole, it might be worth something to both an enterprising shopkeeper, as well as the interested lawman.”

“Why in blazes would they tell me any of that?” She laughed out loud, partially at the look that crossed his face at her mild curse. 

“Because one or both of them are sweet on you.”

“Who on earth have you been talking to?” This time her laugh was rueful. “Look at me. You think a couple of up and coming outlaws would want to spend any of their ill-gotten gains romancing me?”

“No, ma’am, I guess not.”

“Maybe you better spend more time talking to whatever fancy ladies told you that tale.” It made her a bit sad how quickly he agreed with her. “Maybe they know more than they told you. Me, I just sell bullets and beans.”

The news got around and the boys of Devil’s Hole found somewhere else to hurrah and purchase supplies. Rose found herself sad when this happened, but then just shook herself, and got back to selling what the folks of Cimarron wanted to buy. She knew she was a good friend to the boys of Devil’s Hole, and they wouldn’t risk her safety, nor theirs. It still did not keep her from missing them.


End file.
